I have a new essay out today in Sweet literary magazine. The essay combines several pieces of my heart: Italy, food, my husband, and my parents….of course, not necessarily in that order. But the essay is also about homesickness and loneliness. In a city as beautiful as Viterbo, located two hours away from Rome, one might think there shouldn’t be any room for negative emotions. I mean, Viterbo contains numerous gelaterias, medieval churches, and plenty of great food and natural beauty. It is extremely pedestrian-friendly, and every door, every doorknob, every step is imminently photographable.
But you can only take so many pictures. You can only go on so many tours of the churches. What do you do when you don’t speak Italian beyond the very rudimentary ciao, buongiorno, and grazie?
Photo Courtesy: Andrew Scherle @andrewscherle via Unsplash
In all, I was in Italy for about two months, and for the first ten or so days, I was mostly miserable. I was the only Visiting (and non-Italian) instructor for that semester; I could neither hang out with the students, nor with the folks I had just met. And even though I have lived and traveled by myself many times in my life, Viterbo made me realize that up to that point, they had all been to countries where I know the local language. Here, I met very few locals who were fluent in English, and so loneliness settled like a heavier burden than usual.
However, after the first ten or so days I aggressively went about making friends with my colleagues. They too extended warmth and hospitality. And of course, once loneliness lifted, everything improved.